When Pearl's sheltered life shatters in the 1930s when her mother dies, her only option is to move in with poor family relations and shuck oysters in the local plant on Oyster Island, Maryland.

Determined to live a morally proper life, the last thing she wants is an affair with a white man, but Caleb, the plant owner, knows a pearl when he sees one. The successful widower is the “oyster king” of the island, but his intense desire for his forbidden new employee, a woman of color, threatens everything he’s built.

What begins as a private sexual liaison flowers into strong feelings that don't fit the social mores of the island. When their secret is discovered, they risk losing everything. They dared to pluck the pearl, but will their love be strong enough to keep it forever?

“Certainly.” He gripped her hand around the knife again and made deft movements to cut the meat from the shell. “Cut here and there. That’s all there is to it.”

“You make it look so simple,” she said, realizing he could pull her out of her shell just as easily.

When he stepped away from her, her legs nearly gave out. It was as if the hardness that had been nestled against her was the only thing that had been keeping her standing upright in front of the table.

He stepped beside her and she watched, fascinated, as he tipped the oyster half with the meat on it to his mouth. Watching the wet creature slide past the dark hairs of his moustache intrigued her in a way she couldn’t explain.

When he bent forward to kiss her, she was too aroused to refuse. His pale blue eyes came closer than they ever had and all she could do was stare helplessly into them. It was as if she floated higher and higher into the sky, never to set foot on firm earth again.

She felt his moustache first, hot and coarse, and then his lips, cooler and wetter. As his mouth worked over hers, something pushed between her lips. His tongue? She met it with hers, stroking with an abandon she refused to acknowledge as her own.

He tasted of the sea. No, not just one tongue. Two? She was too distracted by the heat boiling through her belly to care. When he removed his mouth, she realized he’d put the oyster inside her mouth.

Without thinking, she spit it out and it landed on the floor.

Caleb tipped his head back and laughed. It was a beautiful man’s laugh, musical and deep. Unfortunately she didn’t feel very amused.

“Now Ernie would have a fit if he saw you messed up his clean floor,” he said. “I take it you don’t care for oysters.”

She crossed her arms. “No, I don’t. I thought you had swallowed it. And you shouldn’t have kissed me.”

He wiped his hand on one of the clean rags nearby and she did the same. Then he leaned an elbow against the table and looked at her.

“Why not, honey? We’re not married.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” she said, “we’re not the same color—or social class, for that matter. You’re the owner of this establishment and I’m just a poor—”

He put two fingers to her lips to quiet her. The lingering scent of oysters drifted from them, making her breathe faster. She was beginning to like oysters…

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon with this story of approximately 19,000 words. Join Charli in her final adventure. The time has come for her to decide which cowboy she wants.

Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon with this short story about Charli's first erotic adventure.

Choose or lose...

The time has come. After a fabulous night of sex, Charli thinks she's in love with Connor Mason, but he's told her that he's a one-woman-man and that he's looking for a one-man kind of woman. What's a girl to do when she's got a kind, decent and sexy hot cowboy in one hand and a mystery, masked, black-hatted cowboy with friends lurking in the shadows?

Does she go for the one she knows who will always be there for her and never let her down? Or does she opt for the adventure, excitement and possible desertion of the one who remains anonymous?

Desperate times call for...

With her decision pretty much made, Charli knows she will have to break the news to the losing team at the Cowboy Masquerade Ball. Wouldn't ya know, nothing turns out the way she plans.

Welcome back to the Ugly Stick Saloon with this short story about Charli's final foray into sexual fantasies with the cowboys of Temptation, Texas.

Warning: Mystery cowboy plays one last dirty trick on an unsuspecting, completely confused saloon girl...add a bit of anal sex, begging and noon naughtiness and you might get the sexually satisfying experience you were looking for all along.

Light streamed through the gap in the wooden blinds, the beam falling across the rumpled sheets, warming Charli Sutton's skin. She stretched, her eyes blinking open to the brightness of the room. A glance at the clock confirmed the time was near noon. She'd never slept better.

Charli yawned, pushed hair out of her face and ran a hand down her neck to her naked breasts, and froze. Eyes widening, a flood of memories washed over her, heating her body, sending fiery signals of lust straight to her pussy.

"Connor," she whispered, her eyes darting to the pillow beside her. Instead of the studly cowboy, Connor Mason, a crisp white piece of paper lay in the gentle indention where his head had lain. On top of the paper lay a deep red rose from Charli's own garden.

Her insides churning, Charli sat up straight, disappointment her first reaction, knowing the note meant he'd gone. And she'd had such a rush of needs overwhelming her, she'd hoped he'd be there to satisfy them or at least take the edge off before she faced the day.

Had to go to work. I'll see you at the Cowboy Masquerade Ball tonight.

Charli clutched the note to her chest and cupped the rose beneath her nose, the warmth of hope filling her.

He wanted to see her again.

She sank back against the pillow, a smile curling her lips. Connor had been so gentle and yet forceful making love, not once, but several times throughout the night.

A delicious ache centered at her entrance where the friction of his thrusts had send her reeling over the edge of orgasm more than once. His lips had seared a path from hers all the way down her throat, skimming across the swells of her breasts.Charli trailed the rose along the side of her neck and downward to the tip of one nipple. The areola drew tight in response, still sensitive from the burn of Connor's beard. She circled the tip with the velvety smooth petals, spurring longing deep inside, tugging at her core, sending waves of cream-filled desire to her pussy.

She moaned and squirmed beneath the rose, sliding it lower still, across her ribs, skimming past her bellybutton to the furry mound at the apex of her thighs.

His lips had been there too, his fingers parting her folds, exposing that little bud of nerves, ripe and pulsing, ready for whatever sweet torture he had in mind.

Charli's heels dug into the mattress, just as they had when Connor spread her knees wide and laid down between her legs, gathering her bottom in his big, calloused hands, lifting her pussy to his lips.

The flower brushed lower, slipping past her dampened pussy, tickling the insides of her thighs. She let her knees fall open, the cool morning air kissing the moisture pooling in her vagina. With one hand, she brushed the rose across her cunt, with the other, she dipped a finger into the heated wetness, sliding it up to her clit bringing a thick coating of come.

Not as powerful as Connor's tongue, but good in a pinch.

She closed her eyes and remembered how it felt to have his mouth on her, licking and teasing, flicking her most receptive erogenous zone, blinding her with such a bright array of sensations she thought she might die from overexposure.

Her finger tapped her clit then slathered it in moisture.

Connor had licked her, swirling his tongue around and around, shooting spurts of adrenaline and desire through her bloodstream. As it was now, the tingling began in her outer extremities, traveling with lightning speed to her center.

Charli moaned, her back arching off the bed, the speed with which she stroked her clit increasing until the pleasure bordered on pain. Her finger stilled, her hand cupping her pussy pressed down, until the orgasm peaked, the sheer beauty of the sensation bursting through to brighten the midday sun.

As she fell back to earth, Charli sighed, pulling up the sheets over her breasts. She dragged the pillow Connor had used against her body in a poor imitation of the solidly built, muscular cowboy. She'd much rather awaken to the real man, making love to her body.

Maybe next time. She grinned and squealed into the pillow. Connor Mason had finally made love to her, and the experience had been everything she'd hoped and dreamed of.

As the rest of the night came back to her, his final comment before she'd drifted off to sleep came back to haunt her.

I'm a one-woman kind of guy. I wanted to be sure you were a one-man kind of girl.

The beauty of the day faded into a pall of guilt and worry.

Charli had been dating Connor while seeing a mystery cowboy after midnight. Granted, she'd never said she was going to date Connor exclusively when it all started between the two of them. And she still didn't know who her mystery cowboy was. At this point, that fact barely mattered. She hadn't seen the stranger in a week, nor did she care to. Connor was the man for her. He was gentle, kind, a war hero, a sexy cowboy and now...she knew without a shadow of a doubt, he was great in bed.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Then go here:http://www.thebloghopspot.com to enter all the other contests to celebrate Valentine's Day! Contest runs from today Feb. 11 through 11:59 PM Feb. 14!
What am I giving away to 2 lucky people who post?
A copy of MIA DOLCE, my contemporary erotica about a lonely widow and a dashing sexy Italian duke!
AND to another person, a copy of the 1st in my STANHOPE CHALLENGE series of erotica Regencies, LORD STANHOPE'S IMPROPER PROPOSAL!
POST AWAY!
Tell which you like best:
Contemporary erotica or historical!

Friday, February 10, 2012

***AND the Winner is***LISA J. Confetti! Dancing cabana boys!!!
What does she get?Delights from Cerise DeLand:EC calendar of Cave Men, EC bag, 1 cc of COUGARLICIOUS with stories by Cerise and 2 other EC authors!Lisa, I am emailing you now!To everyone, THANK YOU for coming! Commenting, too! We'll do this again soon!

Be sure to post here to be eligible for prizes and leave your email address on your post! You must visit each blog and post at each one!Here's my story:

Diego parked his truck at the service entrance to the Stanley Hotel’s restaurant. He cursed at the traffic that had delayed him. Who knew so many people would be up at five on Valentine’s Day?

He was up…for Cherry. In more ways than one.

He jammed the gear into Park, slid the key out of the ignition and grabbed his package.

Running like hell past the idling postal truck, he flung open the door and made for the kitchen.

As he passed the walk-in refrigerator, he saw Cherry’s short, skinny bald sous chef leaning over a large dark object on the floor. The cook held a long blade in his right hand. The thin plastic strips that kept the cold air inside the place were cloudy, but the scene was clear to Diego.

Diego charged on, toward his goal. She stood near the stoves, giving her staff their instructions for the morning. Her back was to him, her long wild red hair caught up in a net and chef’s white toque. She was tall, but not as tall as he. And god, to look at her curves, especially her ass, was always a treat. And the reason he was so Up this morning.

One by one, her staff members spied him and tried to suppress a grin, and then failed.

She spun, curious to learn what drew them.

And when she saw him, even though she had last glimpsed him—naked, gloriously Up for her and driving right into her luscious body—she beamed at him.

“Diego! Darling, what are you doing here? Oh!” She cooed at the sight of his armful of three dozens red roses. “I see. You brought my favorites for Valentine’s Day.”

“You are my day,” he told her as he wrapped one arm around her waist, drew her to him and let her know how Up he truly was. “My day, my night, my moon and stars. Marry me, Cherry, baby.”

She cooed her agreement as she rubbed her body against his. “Yes, yes, yes!”

She framed his face with her warm hands, her elegant fingers soft against his cheeks.

“I cannot kiss you, Cherry.”

Crushed at his rejection, she examined his face.

“In a moment we will kiss and show all your staff how you make love with your lips and tongue and teeth.” He grinned at her. “But first, I must tell you that in your refrigerator, your postman is dead.”

Everyone gasped.

“He was stabbed by your sous chef, my darling Cherry. I had to give you these first. Now allow me to call the police. And then I will kiss you and make your staff jealous.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brushed her breasts against his chest. “I always knew you were my hero. You solve crimes, you bring roses, and you are always Up.”Here is the link to continue on your hop:http://justromance.me/

It all started with a serenade…
A family like Daniel’s and the solitary pursuit of musical excellence is enough to make a young man crazy. No wonder all Daniel Vouks dreams of is getting away. He knows his violin will take him places in life, but the only place he really wants to be is next door. He’s been in love with his neighbor since he was fourteen, but can he ever make her see him as more than just a lovesick kid?
V-Day is the story of a Valentine's Day weekend Daniel fears he may regret, but will never, ever forget.

Excerpt:

Daniel retreated to the music room, thankful he didn’t have a class or a practice scheduled on campus today. He didn’t even have to give any lessons until next week. The weather really didn’t look all that welcoming and he was grateful he could huddle inside as his family bustled off to their various destinations. After school, his parents would be off for the weekend, dropping his sister and her flotilla of luggage off at Kayley’s so the girls could get ready to go to the dance together, which meant leaving Daniel officially on his own until at least Sunday afternoon. Glorious.

Allowing the noise of their departures to roll off him as he sat absently at the piano, he plucked out a few strains and watched the sun glint off the fresh snow in the backyard. It was really beautiful when you could view it from a cozy place.

Blah! Another Valentine’s Day. His nineteenth one as a single guy. And, he thought ruefully, his nineteenth year as a confirmed virgin.

Jesus, even his baby sister had more going on than he did. Selby, his girlfriend in tenth grade, had been about as close to any action as he’d ever gotten. Her pathological fear of pregnancy made it absolutely essential that he keep his pants on at all times. Other than that, any girl he’d ever liked had tossed him into the “friend” basket and never bothered to reassess him.

Kelly, his best friend, did that. After Daniel followed the cute redheaded soprano around for weeks like a puppy, she finally took pity on him and explained he was simply too nice to attract her. After that, they formed an easy relationship through which both had a pal, and a no-fuss “emergency date” when necessary.

“Something like that,” he said, flecking a flower petal off the top of the piano. “Listen…You’re probably…I dunno…busy tonight, right?”

“Are you trying again, Danny?” she groaned.

“Well, no. I just thought if you weren’t, maybe we could do something.”

“I have a date.”

“Right,” he forced a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured you would.” He straightened in his chair. “Being Valentine’s and all. No problem, just wanted to check.”

“Ahhh, Danny,” she sighed. “What about you?”

“I got a hot date all weekend,” he said over a grimace. “With that friggin’ tango, I guess.”

“Danny, do yourself a favor,” she said firmly. “Go get yourself laid. I told you that’s what’s missing from your tango.”

“Well then,” he quipped. “Support the arts and break your date. I can be there in an hour.”

“Har har har,” she said and then laughed for real. “Seriously, go fall for someone. Preferably someone who will fall for you back.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “For you, I'll try my best.”

Daniel hung up and pounded out a few more notes on the keyboard in front of him, contemplating Kelly’s method music theory that said you could only sing or play what you’d experienced. If that were the case, his tango would remain a virginal one if his luck so far was any indication.

Anne Holly is a Canadian writer of romance and erotic-romance, as well as a mother and teacher. You may visit Anne at her blog or website, or find her on GoodReads, Facebook and Twitter (@anneholly2010). Sign up for her newsletter here. Email: anneholly2010@gmail.com.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Come join hundreds of my fellow authors as we celebrate the DAY OF LOVE!
You must see all the prizes!
Mouth-watering, delicious reads!
I am giving away books too.
Happy days are ones in which you get to sit down and read a great romance.